


A Nightmare of a Germanian Style

by aphVirginia



Series: Nightmares of a Hetalian Genre [3]
Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: Angst, Character Death, Every character except Germania is a child, Gore, this is sad af and I'm sorry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-27
Updated: 2015-11-27
Packaged: 2018-05-03 13:49:48
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,288
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5293511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aphVirginia/pseuds/aphVirginia
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>You should have known this would happen. You should have known, before you accepted the drink from that stranger, before you entered the bar, before you left your little ones at home unguarded and unprotected and defenseless. Now… now you pay for your mistakes. You, yourself, can’t do very much – whatever it was that the stranger slipped into your drink is still in effect, making it incredibly difficult to see correctly, as well as move even your fingers. Not that you’d be able to move if you could. You, to the best of your knowledge, are tied to some sort of metal machine. There are bars that go down the lengths of your arms, your legs, your spine, and each of your fingers. The ropes that tie you to the metal… thing… are incredibly tight, and from what you can see are laced with some sort of metal wiring. For lack of a better word, you would say that you were some sort of meat puppet… You hope with all your heart that you are completely and utterly wrong.</p>
<p>A nightmare from the point of view of Germania, 2nd person POV.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Nightmare of a Germanian Style

You should have known this would happen. You should have known, before you accepted the drink from that stranger, before you entered the bar, before you left your little ones at home unguarded and unprotected and defenseless. Now… now you pay for your mistakes. You, yourself, can’t do very much – whatever it was that the stranger slipped into your drink is still in effect, making it incredibly difficult to see correctly, as well as move even your fingers. Not that you’d be able to move if you could. You, to the best of your knowledge, are tied to some sort of metal machine. There are bars that go down the lengths of your arms, your legs, your spine, and each of your fingers. The ropes that tie you to the metal… thing… are incredibly tight, and from what you can see are laced with some sort of metal wiring. For lack of a better word, you would say that you were some sort of meat puppet… You hope with all your heart that you are completely and utterly wrong.

One of your arms lifts up, the machine bending it at the elbow into a crude salute as a set of faint footsteps clicks closer to you.

“Hello, hello, hello~” A sickeningly sweet voice murmurs in your ear—you twitch, the hairs on the back of your neck standing up. “What have we here?” You shut your eyes—you would have glared, but you cannot see your captor. “Now, Aldrich, I usually don’t involve innocent people in my lessons, but you seem to need a bit of… motivation.” The lights in the room flicker on, blinding you—when the spots clear, your heart skips a beat.

Ludwig, Monika, Gilbert, Lutz, Klaus, Basch… All of them tied up and gagged and tossed in a pile on the floor like trash heaps in big cities. Immediately, your parenting instincts kick in and you scan them for injuries—Basch has a rather large bruise on his temple, along with dozens of minor cuts and scrapes. Gilbert is the one you’re the most worried for; he has a rather large and possibly very deep cut that travels from collarbone to navel, and it is plainly obvious that he has received no medical treatment.

“Oh, don’t worry, they’ll be perfectly fine as long as you do what I say.” The voice crooned, silky-sweet and dripping with icy anger. You wonder what you did to anger your captor in the first place… after all, you do TRY to avoid upsetting others. Maybe your captor is just insane… you hope not, for the sake of your little ones. 

“Now, I’m going to perform a small, innocent test. All you have to do is stand still. Got it?” You nod—or, rather, you nod to the best of your ability, as the drug is still in your system. You watch as someone in a large, flowing cloak walks into your field of vision, blocking your view of your children. You hear a shrill yelp – Basch? Or maybe Monika – And then your captor walks away from your little ones, carrying Gilbert with him. You watch – you aren’t sure what will happen if you move, but you’re certain that it won’t be very good. “Now… for the test.” The stranger hoists Gilbert up, until his feet can’t touch the ground, and pulls out a dagger. You can’t let Gilbert get hurt, not because of you. You take a step.

The ceiling over your other little ones crashes down, halting about four feet above them. You see a large plethora of spikes sticking out, and you get a very sick, ill feeling in your stomach.

“Aldrich, Aldrich, Aldrich… This was only the simplest of tests, and you’ve already failed!!!” The stranger points the dagger at Gilbert’s heart, looking you dead in the eyes. “Although, I can’t really blame you. I’d choose this one over the others, too.” He chuckled, ignoring the looks of surprise and betrayal on the faces of your little ones. “This one is actually competent.”

“Shut up.” You growl, fury oozing into your words even though your words are slurred and blurred and barely intelligible.

“Awww, did I hurt your widdle feewings?”

“Shut. Up.”

“You know, I don’t think I will.” The stranger slashes open a new cut on Gilbert, parallel to the one that was already there. It takes all of your effort not to take another step towards your child—you know what will happen if you do. Gilbert whimpers, terror and pain clearly muddling his thoughts.

“Now… choose.”

“Choose?” You have the sick feeling that you know the answer to your question.

“Choose between this little one-“ He hoists the whimpering, bloody Gilbert a little higher into the air. “-or all of your other little ones.” Your eyes flicker between Gilbert and your other little ones—you know that either decision will have dire consequences.

“Dad!! Choose the others!!! I promise that they’re more import-“Gilbert had chewed through his gag, now had a hand clamped over his mouth. Your heart clenches. Gil—well, any of your children—hadn’t called you ‘Dad’ in such a long time you had forgotten how it felt. You shake your head, clearing your thoughts.

“…I’m sorry, Gil.” You look away, shutting your eyes. You don’t want to see what happens to him.

“…Well, kiddos, now you know whom your daddy likes better.” Your eyes snap open, surprised. You watch the stranger toss a shaking Gilbert back with the other little ones, and you get a sinking feeling in the pit of your stomach as he walks over towards a seemingly innocent lever. “Take that knowledge to the grave.”

He pulls the lever, and you scream when the ceiling draps down on your defenseless little ones, the spikes crushing down on their skulls, their ribs, their legs. You shake, feeling a warm wetness streak down your face and your vision blurring as red seeps out from under the spikes, too much blood for such small bodies. You feel yourself go numb—you don’t care. You don’t care, you want to save them, you want them all to be alive, you want this to be a sick and twisted prank and for your little ones to pop up from under the panel yelling “surprise!!” and for you to ground them all for doing something so utterly stupid but you know that will never happen.

“So, have you figured it out yet?” The stranger asks, his voice dragging you out of your mental shock. You hear some sort of screaming—you realize that it’s coming from you. You start moving towards the stranger; you can’t hurt your little ones any more than you already have. He flips a small switch, one you hadn’t seen before. The metal skeleton that you’re attached to freezes up—you can’t move. He walks over to you—you stop screaming, if only to catch your breath to scream again.

“Do you really think that I’d stop with your little ones?” He chuckles, words oozing venom and cruelty and so much pure anger and hatred. “I know that you spend time with lots of people. Lots of people, with families and friends. And if I run out of those, I’ll just get complete strangers. I’m a patient man, I can do this as long as I have to.” He walks over to you, and looks you dead in the eyes. “Now, when I tell you to do something, you do it. Or someone will end up dead, just like your little ones. Have I made myself clear?” Meekly, you nod—you don’t want anyone else getting hurt for you. He smiles. “Good. Let’s keep it that way.”


End file.
